


The Gift of the Sandman

by okapi



Category: Der Sandmann | The Sandman - E. T. A. Hoffmann
Genre: Delusions, Dolls, F/M, Marriage with an Automaton, Sex with an Automaton
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-01-29 15:46:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21412657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/okapi/pseuds/okapi
Summary: Knowing Olimpia is an automaton will not stop Nathanael from creating a life with her and Professor Spalanzani.E. T. A. Hoffmann's "The Sandman."
Relationships: Nathanael/Olimpia
Comments: 4
Kudos: 4
Collections: Corsets & Lemons 2019 round - 1800 literature, The 100 Multifandom Challenge





	The Gift of the Sandman

**Author's Note:**

> For the DW Corsets and Lemons kink meme. The prompt was _Knowing Olimpia is an automaton will not stop Nathanael from desiring her love_. And for the DW 100 Fandoms prompt 091. right.

I awakened as from a heavy, frightful dream. I remembered the scene between horrid Coppola and Professor Spalanzani, and the poor Olimpia, a doll, not a daughter, caught in-between. I remembered Olimpia’s beautiful eyes on the floor and her wooden body flung over Coppola’s shoulder.

As I opened my eyes, I found Professor Spalanzani hovering over me.

“Nathanael.” He spoke in conspiratorial whisper, and I realised that it was dark and that I was very cold. “Do you still love Olimpia?” he asked.

I did not have to search my heart long for the answer.

“Yes.”

“I have rescued her from the wretched Coppelius, but she and I are leaving tonight for a new life. It seems only right to put the choice before you: if you wish to join us, you may come, but, I warn you, you will have to renounce this world of yours for her sake and start afresh in a foreign place.”

“Let’s go,” I said, rising. It was then that I noticed the institutional nature of my surroundings.

I was in a madhouse.

* * *

I did not lay eyes on my beloved Olimpia until the third day after Professor Spalanzani and I reached our destination, which was a set of rooms in a town in a land wholly unknown to me.

We settled, and at first, I was wholly dependent on the professor’s charity as I had left all my belongings behind. One room he took for his workshop, and there he set about ‘readying’ Olimpia for me.

When I was finally presented to Olimpia, it was more than worth the wait. In that moment, I knew I’d made the right decision to abandon my former life for one with my beloved.

She was lovely, beyond lovely, and her beautiful eyes, restored to their splendor, shone with such love for me and such understanding of all that I had suffered and sacrificed for her.

She was dressed in an exquisite frock, and her hair was perfectly set, and she cooed, as she had before,

“Ah – ah!”

I repeated all the poetry I’d ever recited to her and composed more spontaneously, pouring out from the depths of my soul my love for her.

Professor Spalanzani looked on the scene and beamed like a proud, matchmaking Papa.

He set up shop in the village as an optician and repairer of clocks and other mechanical devices and took me as his apprentice, and we found we got on rather well together.

In the evenings, Olimpia played the harpsichord, and in my leisure, I wrote sonnets and stories to amuse her. Professor Spalanzani created an elaborate music box, and Olimpia and I would dance and dance across the hardwood floor. Every night before I retired, I kissed her hand, and every night Olimpia replied,

“Good night, dearest.”

The only interloper allowed in our world was an orphan girl named Essie that Spalanzani took on as housekeeper to the residence and maid to Olimpia in that she helped dress and polish and set the hair of ‘her lady.’

And so, all seemed right with the world, and we four lived quite happily until, one day, the professor said,

“I would see you and my Olimpia properly married, Nathanael, but I ask, nay, I insist that you postpone your claiming of your husbandly right until I am in my grave.”

My heart leapt, but I turned to Olimpia,

“What say you, my dearest?”

The professor leaned over and patted his daughter on the back.

“Ah – ah!” she said in her pretty way. Then she added, to my utter delight, “I love you, Nathanael.”

Well, it was settled.

A blind priest married us, Essie and the professor serving as attendants.

Not much changed until the winter when the professor caught pneumonia and died.

With Essie pushing her in an invalid chair, Olimpia made her only excursion out of doors to the cemetery to see her beloved Papa laid to rest.

I have to say my grief at the professor’s death was mingled with excitement that I might, that night, claim my right as Olimpia’s husband.

* * *

“She is ready,” said Essie as she closed the bedroom door behind her. “Good night, Herr Nathanael.”

I opened the door and saw my beloved Olimpia laid out upon the bed in an enchanting nightgown of lace and silk. I stripped down to my drawers as I approached, murmuring bits of poetry and sweet endearments.

Before crawling upon the bed, I peeled off my drawers, my stiff prick hanging heavy between my legs.

I kissed Olimpia’s forehead and her brows, the ridge of her nose and her cheekbones, and then her mouth. I kissed her lips, licking them, then her chin, nibbling upon it. I kissed down her neck and untied the straps of the nightgown.

Oh, she was so beautiful.

I kissed her breasts and sucked at the rubber nipples. I buried my face in her cleavage and lapped like a beast. I nuzzled against her belly, drawing off the nightgown as I moved down her body.

All the while, I was telling her how much I loved her, how I worshipped her form, and how I would always be hers, body and soul.

And she said, as she often did,

“Ah – ah! I love you, Nathanael!”

I threw the nightgown aside and marveled at her nakedness,

She was bare of hair like a child, and I kissed the V between her legs before moving down to her thighs, knees, and dainty feet.

Then I rose up and found the slick that I swore to Professor Spalanzani I would always use with her. I slicked my prick, then extended the length of my body atop hers. I found her hole, lined with rubber folds, and I sunk my member into her.

It was glorious!

I began to thrust, and she began to make sounds I’d never heard before, little plaintive gasps that sounded like,

‘Oh, oh! Oh, oh! My Nathanael!’

I spent and pulled out, flopping beside her in a state of utter bliss.

It wasn’t long, however, before my desire surfaced once more. I mounted her again. And again. And again. I apologised to her for my lustfulness, but her expression of adoration never wavered. And every time my prick flooded her, she cried out in pleasure and called my name.

I fell into a deep sleep around dawn, and when I woke, Olimpia was by my side, in her lovely nightgown, gazing upon me with all the joy of a well-bedded bride. Indeed, Essie brought a tray to the bedroom, but I sat it aside when the girl had gone and took Olimpia once more before surrendering to the need to break my fast.

Never had been exerting a right been so magnificent!

I had learned enough from Professor Spalanzani that I was able to take over his business, and Essie remained to take care of Olimpia and the household.

I confess I took advantage of the customs of a house of mourning to close up shop at the least provocation and take Olimpia upstairs and bed her. I craved her at all times: the taste of her hard, smooth skin, the feel of her sex, tight ‘round my seemingly ever-hard prick. Even in the shop, when there were no customers about, which was often, I couldn’t resist pinching her bottom or her nipples or even fondling her sex through her skirts.

Of course, I ought to have known there would be consequences. About nine months after the professor’s funeral, there came a parcel from the firm of solicitors that had handled the professor’s will, and would you know, Olimpia and I were presented with a darling baby boy!

By all rights, it began a heavy, frightful dream, but it ended in pure happiness.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
